


Detention

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-02
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape takes care of a sexually abused Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detention

**Author's Note:**

> Mention of past rape of the underage Harry.

"You will remain after class, Mr. Potter!" Snape thundered, towering over the tiny eleven-year-old boy - who was still surrounded by the remains of his exploded cauldron.

Harry shivered. "Yes, Professor Snape," he whispered, ducking his head shamefully.

Harry _hated_ having detention, and ever since he'd met Professor Snape and saw how much the man hated him and how ugly his Potions master was, he'd made a point of avoiding it.

Mechanically, he knelt to begin cleaning up his ruined cauldron and the mess surrounding it, humiliated at the helpless tears falling from his eyes. Good boys didn't cry about having detention; good boys knew they deserved punishment.

He snuffled and Professor Snape made a disgusted noise above him and spelled away the potion and his cauldron.

Still kneeling, Harry watched Snape's boots walking away from him and listened to Malfoy's cruel laughter.

"Stand up, Harry!" Ron hissed in a whisper, nudging at Harry's leg with his foot.

"It'll be okay, Harry, really," Hermione said softly, stirring her potion.

Harry nodded and swiped at his eyes, willing his tears away. To his surprise, they disappeared, and he rose on shaky legs, falling into his chair.

He didn't know why he was acting this way. He'd had millions of detentions with Master Smith last school term, and after a while he'd even been able to stop crying at the thought of it.

He stared down at his work table, miserably running the tips of his fingers over the bumps and cracks and grains in the wood, trying hard not to think about what would happen once class ended.

Ron had had three detentions with Professor Snape, and each time he'd seemed just fine when he'd come back, and so had Seamus.

Harry bit his lip to hold back more tears. Maybe they started wizards on grown-up detention when they were younger, so Seamus, whose Mum was a witch, and Ron, whose parents were both magical, had probably got used to it a long time ago.

Hermione had probably never got detention, so she didn't know about… it. Anyway, she was rubbing his back now, really gently like Harry had seen Aunt Petunia do when Dudley had got sick that one time and spent the whole night bent over the toilet.

She and Ron both shot him a sympathetic glance as they left – but they did leave, nevertheless.

Harry couldn't blame them; he wouldn't want to hang around for this, either.

"Get up here," Snape bit out, his back to Harry as he wrote tomorrow's lesson on the blackboard.

Harry whimpered very, very softly and nodded, managing to pick himself up from his chair and go over to Snape's desk. He waited for a moment but Snape was busy, so he thought he'd better get himself ready. With a tiny sob he began pulling his clothes off, article by article, until he was naked and trembling. He looked down at his cock, willing it to stay soft the way Master Smith had always wanted it to. He'd spent many an afternoon bent over Master Smith's knees, being spanked _very_ hard as punishment, so hard he'd be unable to sit still for days - which only earned him _more_ detention - and the spankings had done nothing to stop his cock being hard. If anything, they'd always made it worse!

He draped himself over the desk, trembling, exposing his arse to Snape the way he'd been taught, ashamed to feel his cock getting hard all over again.

He screwed his eyes shut as Snape began speaking, shuddering against the cool wooden desk.

"Well, Mr. Potter, you will be scrubbing every single --" Snape suddenly left off speaking.

The silence was loud. It hurt Harry's ears and made him so nervous - he could feel his thighs trembling and his knees wanted to give way under him. "P-Professor?" he whimpered, feeling frightened. He wished Professor Snape would just fuck him and have it all over with! This waiting part was the worst! Master Smith had only done it when he was really, _really_ naughty.

Why wouldn't Snape touch him, just a little? He whimpered his distress. Master Smith always touched him, but maybe he wasn't good enough? Master Smith had always said he was being really nice to Harry, to give him so many detentions when he was such a worthless, naughty, horrible little boy.

Harry sobbed very, very softly, laying his forehead on the desk. He never could do anything right.

His wandering thoughts were interrupted when he felt Snape's big hand lie gently on the small of his back. "Mister-- Harry, what are you doing?" Professor Snape asked, almost whispering.

"D-detention," Harry responded.

"Who taught you to do detention this way, Harry?" Snape murmured, running just the very tips of his fingers up and down Harry's spine. It felt so very good, to be stroked so gently! Master Smith never touched him gently - no one ever had until he found out he was a wizard.

"M-Master Smith," he whimpered, biting his lip and forcing himself to be still, afraid Snape would stop soothing him if he moved too much. "M-my teacher, last term."

"I see...." Snape said softly, but he kept stroking Harry's spine. "What did Master Smith teach you?"

Harry gulped, arching back against that warm hand, and shook his head frantically against his arms.

Snape sighed exasperatedly and smacked Harry's arse sharply. It didn't hurt that much, but it shocked Harry, and he jumped and cried out. "My c-cock isn't 'sposed to get hard!" he whimpered, ashamed as that very thing happened, his cock hardening against the desk even more.

Snape said nothing; he just continued to stroke Harry's spine in that oddly reassuring way, although the hand that had spanked Harry remained on his arse, a heavy, unmoving weight. "A-and...." Harry bit his lip and brought his hand up to wipe tears from his eyes.

"And?" Snape prompted, beginning to stroke Harry's arse now.

"A-and he u-used to punish me when I got hard," Harry whispered very, very quietly.

Again, Snape said nothing. He merely continued to stroke Harry soothingly.

Harry felt himself relaxing now that the interrogation appeared to have ended. He never could have imagined Snape would be so _nice_.

"There now," Snape murmured softly. "Such a good boy." The hand that was stroking Harry's back smoothed down to begin rubbing at his arse, and it felt so good, and Master Smith had never called him a good boy! Harry had a hard time believing it; no one had ever said it before. He shook his head frantically against the desk, suddenly afraid Professor Snape had confused him with someone else, a good boy, not naughty, freakish Harry Potter.

"Not a good boy," he whimpered, not wanting Professor Snape to be mad at him for not admitting he was a naughty boy. "I'm bad," he moaned as Snape's thumbs slid between the cheeks of his arse. Helplessly he rubbed his cock against the rough grains in the wooden desk. "Very naughty!" he whimpered, thrusting his hips back against Snape's thumbs like the slut Master Smith had said he was.

"My good, naughty boy," Snape purred softly, stroking his thumb over Harry's hole in a gentle way that Master Smith had never done. Harry tossed his head back and didn't even notice when Snape's other hand disappeared.

He yelped as a warm, slick fluid coated his arse. "P-Professor?"

"Shh, Mr. Potter," Snape murmured, sounding distracted. He slipped a slick finger between Harry's arse and brushed the tip of it against Harry's hole. Harry moaned, panting, his mouth hanging open as he thrust back against Snape's wonderful, gentle hand.

"Did Master Smith fuck you, Harry?" Snape asked, and he sounded almost as if *he* were losing his breath, as well!

Harry nodded, whimpering a little. Would Snape fuck him? It always hurt so much when Master Smith had done it!

"I take it, by your shock," Snape said, and sounded very VERY angry, "That your Master Smith never used anything slick, like what I've put on my fingers this afternoon?"

Trembling, Harry shook his head.

Snape petted down Harry's spine. "Shh, Harry," he murmured, and Harry guessed he wasn't too angry because he didn't stop stroking his fingers over Harry's hole.

Feeling brave under Snape's odd kindness, he lifted a shaking hand and brought it down to stroke his hard prick. Master Smith had only let him touch himself once, and he'd never been allowed to spurt the way Master Smith had every detention. Master Smith told him he'd never earned it, that he had to learn to take Master Smith's cock without screaming at all.

He never had. It had hurt so much, burning inside him!

But Snape's finger in him didn't hurt the way Master Smith's had, and Harry moaned, rubbing himself hard and humping back against it. "Oh! Oh, Master!" he cried.

Snape's hand came down on his arse with punishing force, but what really caught Harry's attention was how Snape's finger stopped moving inside him. He whimpered, dismayed.

"I am _not_ your Master, Mr. Potter," Snape snapped harshly, "And you will not address me as such, is that clear?"

Harry nodded, whimpering, ashamed to feel his erection beginning to flag in his hand. He wanted so badly to make Professor Snape happy, but everybody was right! He could never do anything right!

Snape patted the small of his back. "There, now," he said softly, and began thrusting his fingers again. Harry whimpered and thrust back against them, rubbing hard at his cock, feeling it getting so hard in his hand! He sobbed softly. "That's it," Snape murmured, his voice coaxing and soft and then his finger brushed over something that felt SO GOOD and Harry shrieked, spurting against his will, his knees falling out underneath him.

He sure was in for it now! Harry sobbed and curled into himself, not caring about the slimy mess on his belly. "I'm sorry!" he whispered over and over. "I'm sorry I'msorry I'msorryI'msorry!" he whimpered. He didn't know what would happen now. Master Smith had always told Harry that he would be punished really, really hard if he ever spurted that way. He whimpered and sobbed loudly.

"Shh," Snape murmured softly. He knelt down beside Harry and Harry scooted away, but Snape only gathered him close, murmuring a faint, itchy spell that cleared away Harry's mess. He ran his fingers through Harry's hair and that felt so good that his tears stopped and he blinked up at his Professor.

"Sir?" he whispered.

Snape didn't say anything, just tucked Harry's head in under his chin, rocking him like he was a baby. Harry would have protested being treated like that, except it felt so good, to be held that way. He wrapped his legs around Professor Snape's waist, feeling weak and shivery now that the fear and shame were disappearing.

Snape stood up, still holding Harry close against him. He carried Harry into his chambers - Harry heard him faintly ward the doors closed - and he was tucked in between cool, smooth, soft sheets. Harry sighed and managed to flip himself over onto his belly. He snuffled into the pillow and blinked his eyes open to look up at Snape, who oddly didn't look so ugly now. "Don't you have to c-come?" he asked, feeling brave.

Professor stroked hair back from his forehead gently, exposing Harry's pink scar. "Not now, little one," Snape murmured.

Harry frowned. "'M not _little_ ," he protested firmly, if sleepily.

Professor Snape lay down next to him and pulled him close, kissing the top of his head very gently. Harry felt himself relaxing, felt his eyes drifting closed. "'M not," he insisted, though the effect was ruined by his yawn. Bravely he cuddled close against Professor Snape's warm and hard body, relaxing more when he wasn't immediately shoved away.

Instead, Professor Snape's arms came around him, hugging him close and tight. Harry knew nothing more, though Professor Snape did not sleep, instead watching Harry, feeling him wriggle and snuffle and cuddle and snuggle close, nuzzling his nose against Snape's neck. He did not sleep all night, even after he'd sent Harry away to his dorms after dinner.


End file.
